Rust & Bone

It may have seemed a sign of hope that we are surrounded by humanity But they are merely there to pick our bones malignant Growing on the mind like mould a mere sliver of light drifting Between wars and plagues but there is no sound of violence no famine of the mind Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes Trying to crawl back through creation, just plugged in expecting to peak Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes Seed aching to perfect itself anchored by coffins and the slums of the subconscious Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes Where we boil our own cancers torn from the caul, the curds of gestation Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes It’s in the gut in the soil of the land the dreams in the stars of blood and terror Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes A whore moon probed to life by groping entropy presumed to be the gods just aching for existence Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes Nothing left but corruption a place in the sky? Alongside the artifacts of some played out civilization Phosphine dreams space dust in tune drifting through stars the purest of light Elements of the age the red gout of light no famine of the mind Blood blown moons without life suns and molten planets outside the mind Precession of equinoxes a world created on a lie three kings follow a star The only gout of light? The ancient dream stars and earth collide No famine, no famine of the mind The insufferable stretch of time down the gullied abattoirs of the mind the old world a Bethlehem in the sky dead roots dead time corruption seeps into the light the ancient dream through the red gout of light the ancient dream a palace in the sky A cold spiral of systems created to destroy a dense mass of consciousness created without life held together by dust worms and the dead time through a mere sliver of light the sun a mockery in the sky forming galaxies the all-consuming life the ancient dream destruction of mankind An epoch of time cutting a red line through the rusted sky At war with the microcosm reality is just the consensus attending its ancient agenda For our culture tricks us into accepting it as consciousness just beyond some periphery But now they are coming they could smell the blood Elements personified to nothing

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 24, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Are we mere space dust drifting in time to nowhere and destruction? The corruption seeps to the purest light and that is existence Above it all burns the stars buried in the stomach of our land Just one more drifting chip of consciousness stumbling against static waves is it the machine keeping us down? Plugged in expecting to peak Above it all burns the stars buried in the stomach of our land Nothing but dirt and old bones held together by dust To crack the land and the old backbone clears the mind of stone A cold smear of last night’s smoke the drowsing lot Reeled in on its silver thread red dust a smell like maturing rust Emptying days and the driving mantle gloom Last night’s smoke the drowsing lot Just plugged in expecting to peak buried by dirt and old bones Are we mere space dust drifting in time to nowhere and destruction? The corruption, it seeps to the purest light and that is existence Above it all burns the stars buried in the stomach of our land Mammalian spreads mute into an extended nervous system A dense mass of consciousness the blood of our air There are times when we are nowhere Falling apart it seems There are times when we are nowhere Falling apart at the seams Falling apart it seems Falling apart at the seams Falling it seems Apart

Submitted by Morgoth — Apr 24, 2025

This track is instrumental.

Is this song not instrumental?

Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart O when may it suffice? That is Heaven’s part, our part To murmur name upon name, As a mother names her child When sleep at last has come on limbs that had run wild. What is it but nightfall? No, no, not night but death, Was it needless death after all? For England may keep faith For all that is done and said. We know their dream enough to know they dreamed and are dead, And what of excess of love Bewildered them till they died? I write it out in a verse MacDonagh and MacBride and Connoly and Pearse Now and in time to be, wherever green is worn, are changed, changed utterly A terrible beauty is born Oh... Oh... Now and in time to be, wherever green is worn, are changed, changed utterly A terrible beauty is born

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 24, 2025